Chapter 1: Damn Stitches
There was something strange about the man staring at Yaku from the other side of the bar. Something that felt alluring and suffocating all at once- like he was going to be devoured.
He took a burning gulp of whiskey in his glass, knocking the shot back in a practiced motion. He let out a damp sigh, a pleasant shudder tingling his spine. He always loved a good drink. It would be more enjoyable if that asshole would stop drilling holes into the side of his head.
He dared to steal another glance at the man while he called to the bartender to get him another drink: the man was tall, what with the way he slouched in his chair, and his hair was a mess of pure black, as if he had just woken up and dragged himself out of bed without a care in the world. Of course- for Yaku- those weren't his most noticeable characteristics. Oh, no; it was his eyes. They reminded him of the eyes of the stray cat he'd always feed once he got home from work: just shy of being gold and gleaming with an unknown danger like they knew your biggest secrets, your most scorned memories. Another shiver bolted down his spine; this one not as pleasant as the last.
The clink of glass brought his gaze back to the bartender. "Here." He said, his voice almost blurring with the bubbling conversations and shouts around them.
He offered a smile to the man, "thank you."
The bartender simply nodded before slipping off to the next customer that called for his attention.
Yaku sighed, leaning his head against the palm of his hand, the other lifting the shot glass and swirling the auburn liquid around. He watched a minuscule sense of wonder budding in his chest. How the lowlights of the bar would catch the movement of the swirling alcohol and create a stunning gold out of the chestnut brown of the drink never ceased to bring a slight feeling of amazement to life in the back of his mind. It offered him a reprieve from the man until he felt those eyes weigh on him once again.
"Fuck..." He whispered. He shook his head, knocking the drink back before reaching into his pocket and throwing money down on the table, more than was needed for a pint of beer and three shots of whiskey, he was sure- but the bad taste left in his mouth from the mounting frustration caused him to lose any feeling of frugalness he would usually hold for such things. The rushed stitches in his side were beginning to grow irritated anyhow. He shouted to the bartender before sliding off his stool and pushing his way towards the exit. He spared one last glance where the man was sitting but, instead, Yaku met the sight of an empty seat. He blinked.
Wait- where did he- when did he-?
He scowled before continuing to push through the mob of men. He yelled out careless rounds of 'excuse me's and 'passing through's before he finally made it out of the bar.
The blast of cold air that burst open with the doors felt like a blessing on his heated skin, the sticky beads of sweat stuck his hair to the back of his neck and his forehead. "Finally!" He sighed. He had slumped forward, resting his hands on his knees, soft pants leaving his lips. One thing he hated about this bar was how popular it was. Everyone and their mother knew about this place.
Yaku straightened himself and tilted his gaze up to look at the wooden sign that hung above the doors: Little Detours.
He smiled, remembering when this place was just a simple mom-and-pop's place. When he was just a child, he and his best friend would come to this place with the few couple shillings they'd save up, from what their parents would let them keep from the grueling jobs that they would pick up from even worse employers, and buy a drink and a snack from the old man who used to run the place.
Now, the old man's son took over (not the worst fellow, but the man was quite ornery when he didn't get what he wanted. Yaku shivered at the thought) and he couldn't remember the face of that person he was so close to when he was younger. He remembered crying for a long time when he left, but after a couple of weeks, things began to carry out on their own relatively easily after that.
"So, you come here often?" A voice asked.
Yaku threw a withering glare at the man from the bar. A scowl firm on his lips. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Hey, I mean no harm," the man chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
"Why were you staring at me?" Yaku felt his stomach bubble with a simmering mix of rage and nervousness. His hand slid towards his back with practiced ease, his gloved fingers coming to rest on the leather bound hilt of one of his daggers.
"Ah-ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you, Yakukun."
He took a step back as if he were slapped in the face. A moment of shock passed across his face before his gaze turned into a blistering glare once again. "What do you want?"
"What do I want?" The man hummed, a look of mock contemplation twisting his face. Yaku never wanted to punch a man more in his life. "Well," the man suddenly began, leaning close towards Yaku's face. "I want you to be my guard."
Yaku squinted at him, the smile on the man's lips widened reminding him more and more of a cat slowly cornering his prey. He crossed his arms over his chest. "And prey-tell, what would I be guarding you from?"
"Well, isn't that obvious? From the Demon Lord Oikawa Tooru."
Yaku blanched, "Hell no!"
Oikawa Tooru, one of the most malicious demon known to mankind. It was a suicide mission to try and oppose him, especially for a human. And, as loathe as Yaku was to admit it, he was just a human. A human with the skills and training of a seasoned assassin, but a human nonetheless.
"Oh, come on!" The man whined grabbing hold of Yaku's arms. He winced at the pressure behind those fingers and a chilling realization settled in the back of his mind: this man wasn't human. "Please! It's not like you're going to be the one to fight Oikawa Tooru himself- I'll do that part. No, what I need you to do is distract that damn lackey of his."
"Lackey-?" Yaku began, but almost choked on his saliva when the man hooked his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to his chest like they were longtime friends and forcing him to keep up with his long strides as he guided him away from the bar and towards…
Towards his house.
A spike of fear constricted his throat.
How the fuck does he- wait, wait, wait. Yaku. Breath. He probably doesn't know where your house is. It's probably just a coincidence.
The paranoia nearly went away when they suddenly took a right turn that was most definitely the way to his house.
"Anyway," the man continued. "Yeah, his lackey: Iwazumi something-or-other- he’s a really good swordsman, and I mean good. He was a knight for your King's royal guard and was the top of his class, just about to be sworn as a captain when he got taken by the Oikawa asshole. Now he works for him."
Yaku was barely listening to him; the panic of them slowly getting closer to his house set in. One more turn to the right and two more houses and they'd be at his front porch. His mind continued to try and convince him that they weren’t really on his way to his house. Maybe they’d walk right on past it and go to one of the many abandoned houses that lined the village road just another couple of minutes down. Or maybe they were going to a restaurant that was just around the corner of his house- Yaku was possibly leaning towards the ladder a little too much. He hadn’t eaten all day since he had gotten back from his last mission. Not to mention his side was beginning to pinch.
He was jarred out of his thoughts when they stopped in front of a very familiar house. He looked up at the man, the shred of hope he clung to that he was just simply stopping for a brief moment was thrown out the window by his Cheshire grin, his pupil's thin slits. Yaku began to struggle in the man’s grip, ignoring the pulling in his side. “Fucker! How the fuck do you know where I live?”
Kuroo watched Yaku struggle amused at his silly attempts to break free of his grip. The cat had always described him as someone cute, but his descriptions felt like they paled in comparison: the boy was simply adorable.
His face flushed red with rage and his meek attempts were all adorable. Kuroo nearly laughed at the notion of Yaku hurting him with just his fists-
Ow! Ok, whoa, that actually hurt. Kuroo stared down at him with wide eyes, watching as he dug into his abdomen with a thin blade that came from his sleeve, beneath his wrist. His grip loosened just a fraction, but that was enough time for Yaku to twist around, pulling the blade out with ease and swinging it towards his face. Kuroo yelped, ducking out of the way. He fell flat on his back and at that moment he was happy that Kenma wasn’t there to see this little debacle, otherwise, he’d never be able to live it down.
A sudden weight bore down on his chest, locking him in place (rather he allowed him to), he looked up and a shiver shot down his spine. He felt pinned by those burning eyes. The tip of the blade rested atop his Adam's apple, the tickling sensation causing goosebumps to spread across his skin. He gaped up at Yaku. He’s perfect.
Yaku heaved in a ragged breath the blade steady in his hands despite the hot blood flowing from the rips in the shoddy stitches. He gritted his teeth at the stupid face the man was making: starstruck and amazed as if he had seen the most wondrous thing in the universe. He leaned closer, bringing the blade to press hard right above his Adam's apple. There was a sick pleasure in the way the man’s breath caught in his throat. “Now, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are-”
“Kuroo,” the man interrupted, his voice held a slight wheeze. “My name’s Kuroo Tetsurou.”
“Well, Kuroo,” Yaku emphasized his name by pushing the blade harder, drips of red beading at the very tip of it. “I want answers. Now. First, how did you…” He trailed off, the vision around his eyes going black. “Fuck.” he swayed back and forth before he slumped against Kuroo. He could hear the dull sound of the blade clattering to the side and feel the throb in his side. He squeezed his eyes shut.
How pathetic. For an assassin like me to go down like this? His breath turned ragged and he clung to the front of Kuroo’s tunic. Sleepy… So sleepy.
He heard the faint sound of a meow, the stray he took care of. He could also hear the blurred voice of Kuroo talking to the cat as if he understood him. And for a split moment, Yaku wondered if he did before his brain slipped into a dark abyss, void of any noise or any thought. Simply alone in a void. At that moment, Yaku truly felt that he was going to die.
Chapter 2: Branding the Bodyguard
Kuroo's a little shit, but when is he not?
So, I forgot that the twins weren't on the team I was thinking of and I nearly screeched. But, we'll make this work! They'll just be in cahoots with the person I'm thinking of, hehe. The plot thickens! Anyway, I hope you all are enjoying yourselves! Have a nice day wherever you are!
Blood bubbled past the cracks in his fingers: burning and slick, it felt surreal- but it wasn’t enough to deter Yaku’s attention from the two men standing in front of him.
They looked like mirror images of each other: the same hairstyle, same yellow-gold eyes... The only thing differentiating them was their hair color. Yaku could only assume that one dyed his hair, which one he wasn’t sure.
The one on the left, the blond one, took a step forward before retreating two steps back to avoid the knife that dug into the ground right where he was standing once before. A wide smile cracked across his face and Yaku felt a pulse of angry adrenaline pump through his veins. The man whistled. “Look at you! You really are a top assassin!”
Yaku glared, raising his dagger a little higher and spreading his legs a little wider. Steadying his stance despite the blood steadily pouring from the wound on his side.
How they managed to get such a deep cut on him was beyond him. Not to mention is frustrated him to no end. Who did these two think they were? He already had to deal with enough annoying customers on a daily- he didn’t want to deal with these assholes. His eyes drifted to his surroundings, scanning for any easy way out. Loath as he was to admit it, he was in a bit of a pinch.
At least they can’t get to my back. He thought, at least somewhat thankful to the large tree that he had his back pressed against. But that also served to be a hindrance to his escape.
“No words for us?” the man continued, almost making it sound like he was whining.
Yaku huffed. No way was he going to give these two the satisfaction of him talking if that was what they wanted.
“He didn’t even make a noise when you hit him, Osamu! Isn’t that amazing?”
The silver-haired one- Osamu- simply grunted, staring Yaku down as hard as he was him.
It felt as though he was being stripped of his very being. That this man- thing- was reading his very soul; looking for the thing that made Yaku him. Damn, he had to get out of here. Now.
He released the pressure of his wound, making sure to keep a steady eye on the pair as his hand snuck into a pouch that rested against his hip. Yaku was suddenly very grateful to the cloak he always wore.
The two were quietly watching him now: the blond one with that unnerving smile on his face and Osamu remaining with his neutral expression. But, there was something wrong with him. Like there was an excited charge just under his skin. That he was waiting for the perfect chance to strike.
Yaku’s felt the fine powder in his palm as he grabbed a fistful of it. Just enough for two people. He took a deep breath, his muscles beginning to coil, and his heartbeat roared in his ears.
He saw the shared flash in their eyes before he launched himself at the two, covering his face with his cloak and sending the powder flying in an arch that would hit both of them. Sadistic satisfaction sparked in the back of Yaku’s mind when he heard the pained yelp and grunt of the two. He wasted no time, pivoting on his heel, his blade swinging in a beautiful arc as he slashed the back of Osamu’s neck. He kicked against his side and launched himself at the other brother who was red-eyed and in shock. He sunk his blade deep into his neck...
Blood gushed from the wound as soon as Yaku ripped it out, but he wasted no time in watching his work. There was something screaming in the back of his mind, telling him to run as fast and as far as possible.
And Yaku was never one to ignore that voice.
As he tore through the trees, he threw a look over his shoulder. A cold shudder ran through him and he forced his legs to pump even faster.
The blood was still there- but there were no bodies.
When broke the treeline of that forest Yaku swore he could hear twin giggles echoing off of the trees and thought settled like a stone in water: that wasn’t the last time he’d see them.
* * *
Yaku felt the soft tickle of fur against his chin and cheek and he groaned. A soft meow sounded and a sandpaper-like tongue began to lap at his hair. He chuckled this time, starting to shift his stiff body before he wheezed at a sudden discomfort that exploded in his side.
“You sure are a handful, ain’t ya?” Came a chuckle to the side of him.
His eyes snapped open and the sudden realization that he couldn’t move his body donned on him. He racked his brain trying to remember what happened the last time he was awake, but only one name and the image of an insufferable grin were the only things that flooded back to him. “Kuroo.” He hissed, his glare focusing so far to the corner of his eye that they began to hurt.
“The one and only,” Kuroo grinned. He was seated in Yaku’s favorite seat, an old rocking chair that his father had made for him before he passed away, his foot rested on his knee, and a sleazy smile stretched across his face. “You hungry? I made some fish.”
“Fish?” Yaku cried. “Who the hell eats fish! And why can’t I move?”
“What’s wrong with fish?” Kuroo shot back the obvious look of offense heavy on his features.
“Everything! It leaves a bad taste in your mouth after you eat it and you have no idea what people do in these lakes!” Yaku continued to struggle against the invisible ties that held him down.
“For your information, I got these from the cleanest lake in all of this and the demon land, that I happen to own-”
“So, you are a demon.”
They stared at each other for a moment, the cat continued to lap at Yaku’s hair.
“I sure am.”
“Makes sense. You are unpleasant after all.”
“But,” he squinted his eyes at Kuroo another pause passed between them before he continued. “I thought you demons had horns and tails.”
“Oh, we do. We just adopt a more… human-like appearance to blend into your world. Otherwise, we’d certainly cause a ruckus just by taking a nice stroll down the road, now wouldn’t we?”
“That… makes sense, I guess.” Yaku mumbled, wincing again at the pull of his wound. The cat let out another soft meow, rubbing his face against his cheek. He let out a breathy laugh, turning his attention towards the black cat. “Hey, Chestnut. Hope you can forgive me for not feeding you yesterday.”
The cat meowed in reply.
“Yeah, if I could move I’d get you something right now.”
“He’s already eaten,” Kuroo cut in. His eyes were shiny with wonder.
“You fed him?”
“He can feed himself, but I did give him a bit of fish this morning. Speaking of fish and breakfast,” Kuroo picked up a plate from the round table that sat next to the chair. The plate was covered by a towel and Yaku wanted so badly to shrink in on himself in a conscious habit. “Time for my little bodyguard to eat.”
Yaku hated how he sang those words. He hated the fact that his body moved on his own by just a flick of Kuroo’s long fingers even more. “Once I’m better, you’re a dead man.” Yaku snapped, his mouth being forced to close around the spoon that held rice with thin strips of fish on it.
“Good thing I’m not a man.” Kuroo winked.
Yaku made no further comment, despite how much he wanted to, instead, he focused on trying not to gag on the taste and feeling of the raw fish as he swallowed it. This process continued until, mercifully, Kuroo ran out of rice and fish to feed him.
“Would you look at that? Such a good boy- and I thought you didn’t like fish.”
“Stop doing whatever you’re doing to keep my body still so I can punch you.”
A mock gasp escaped from his lips as he poked Yaku’s nose with the tip of the spoon. “How can you talk to your king with such hostility?”
“‘My king’? Where in the hell did that come from?”
“ Oh? Don’t you remember our talk yesterday?”
Yaku’s eyebrows knitted in concentration. Yesterday was a blur, but he remembered the clear annoyance he felt towards Kuroo and the way his eyes felt on the side of his head at the bar. He also remembered stabbing him. He scowled. “You mean when you were trying to force me to be your bodyguard?”
“Force? No, no, my dear, Yakkun. I like to call it gentle persuasion.” Kuroo suddenly grabbed a hold of his wrists. For a split moment, Yaku realized how small he was compared to the demon. “Now, this-this is force.”
Yaku let out a cry of pain when palms of Kuroo’s hands suddenly burned like a fire. He could smell his flesh burning, his eyes watering as he tried to will his body to move, but the ties only seemed to pull harder on his body.
It reminded him of the time he got branded. It was when he was young and he was just starting out in his work as an assassin. It was the only time he’d ever gotten caught. The red hot iron of the brand being freshly taken out of the fire still burned bright in his mind and the excruciating pain, not much different from this one, still rang throughout his body. The incessant throbbing took weeks to finally stop after he managed to escape. Even then, the trauma of the pain dwelled within his mind.
Now, it felt like that wound was being ripped open. “What the hell are you doing?” He yelled, struggling and pulling at the tie that held him. “Stop it! Let go!”
Kuroo was mumbling something in a tongue he couldn’t understand, the hold on his wrists tightening until he thought all the blood was going to be cut off from his hands. Then, suddenly, it was over. He let go with a malicious grin- one truly fit for a demon. “There. You’re mine now.”
Yaku felt the control in his body come back to him and he looked down at his wrists. Instead of the bright red of the mark that he was expecting, it was gold and in the shape of a cat’s paw. And the throbbing pain that he was expecting, was gone too. He watched in amazement as the marking began to disappear, seemingly melting into his skin. “What did…” He licked his lips, fear and confusion swimming through his mind. “What did you do?”
“I branded you of course,” Kuroo said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t defy me no matter how much you want to now. So, that also means you can’t pull that stunt that from yesterday.”
Yaku bit his lower lip, clenching his fists. “That’s bullshit! Why would you do that?”
Kuroo shrugged and then grinned. “But you realize that this means that you're under my control forever right?” He snorted as red flushed his pale cheeks and his teeth gritted in genuine anger. Of course, it wasn’t really forever. He wasn’t about to stoop as low as Oikawa. It was only a temporary brand, just until he finished using him. But did that mean he couldn’t have fun?
“You bastard! Take them off!”
Kuroo’s grin grew at the violent jerk that pulled Yaku’s body right before he was going to lunge for his throat. “It’s a brand- those don’t exactly come off. But, you would know that, wouldn't you, Yakkun?”
Yaku felt the shame dye his cheeks a deeper red. His tongue felt numb as he searched for words. “Bastard…”
Kuroo threw his head back and laughed, deep and throaty. He leaned close to Yaku’s face. His eyes were almost gentle. “When you get better. You’re coming with me and you’re going to be my bodyguard against that damn Iwaizumi. Got it?” He might have phrased it as a question, but there was no room for arguing, no negotiation was found in the way those eyes bore into his very soul.
Dammit. Yaku didn’t say anything, but he didn’t think he needed to. Instead, he turned his attention to Chestnut who remained sitting where he was, watching the two with his almost-golden eyes, and began to stroke his black fur.
Chapter 3: Abuse of Power
Hey, again everyone, I hope you enjoy this little chapter. I hope you enjoy Kuroo's and Yaku's antics in this one! Because we're moving onto meeting some big fish in the next chapter *rubs gremlin hands together* Hehehe.
It had taken Yaku about a week to recover to the point where he could move on his own again and within that time he had come to the conclusion that he had never wanted to kill a man more in his life.
Kuroo often would tease him by holding things out of his reach, relishing in the fact that Yaku couldn’t struggle and reach for the desired item and the added fact that he didn’t have the option to stab him anymore only added to the demon’s amusement. He’s also gone as far as to wake him up in the middle of the night just to ask, “what if pigeons had man hands?”
There had been an awkward moment of silence that passed between them before Yaku slammed his head back onto his pillow, forcing himself to ignore the insistent poking at his back. “But, what happened if they did, Yakkun! It would be disastrous! They could take over the world! It’d be like if fish grew arms!”
“I hope a damn pigeon does grow some fucking man hands so it can strangle you.” He slurred barely stringing the words together in his sleep addled mind. He didn’t catch the rest of what Kuroo began to ramble on about, but he was sure it was something just as stupid, or even moreso than that.
Oh, how he hated the fact that demons didn’t need sleep.
But, here they were. Finally getting to the point that he had been waiting for all these seven days; Yaku relished in the way that his joints popped, groaning at the satisfying tingle that lingered in his spine.
“Feeling better?” Kuroo said, his face suddenly floating in front of his own.
He rolled his eyes in response.
“Aw, don’t be like that- I thought we’ve been getting along really good with all of our late night talks.”
“By late night talks, you mean you waking me up in the middle of the night to rant about something stupid, then no. No, they haven’t been working.”
“At least you’ve stopped trying to kill me.”
Yaku sucked on his teeth, glowering at the grinning demon. Oh, yes; he had tried to murder him multiple times. None of them worked; not with the brands keeping him from harming the damn demon. It lit an unwavering anger inside of him. He had (begrudgingly) come to except that he wasn’t going to get around these damnable brands and decided to just ignore Kuroo instead- avoid giving him a reaction to the things that he said. That was easier said than done, unfortunately. “Shut up,” he muttered while pulling himself up from the bed and making his way towards his cabinets.
“Where are you going?”
Yaku had never seen a man’s eyes shine so brightly in his life. “Can I join you?”
“Aw, why not? It’s not like we aren’t both guys so what’s the big deal?”
“I don’t want to shower with a demon- and plus there’s only enough room for one person.”
Kuroo thought for a moment before that insufferable grin spread across his face. “You wanna see something cool?”
“I want to take a shower.”
“It’ll only take a sec- watch.”
Yaku sighed. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt that much to entertain the demon at least for a little bit. He had been bored laying in that bed and it couldn’t be that bad, now could it? A better part of his brain was screaming: yes! Yes, it can!
But he ignored it. And for once it really wasn’t that bad.
He watched as Kuroo crouched with a grace that was too fluid to be human, his eyes flashing a vibrant gold, and his pupils slitting to almost nothing. For some strange reason, Yaku thought he was beautiful in that moment and he felt silly. The feeling disappeared as soon as it came when he noticed the demons form changing.
It was like watching someone collapse in on themselves. Honestly, it was horrifying but he watched as black fur began to blaze down Kuroo’s back and arms and his mouth turn into a short muzzle.
Yaku only crept closer to the pile of clothes when the sounds of bones popping stopped. He lifted the bundle to reveal a black cat: large and powerful, he could trace the muscles as it shifted on its’ paws. Its’ eyes flashed with amusement. “I’m assuming you liked my trick?” Kuroo purred.
Yaku didn’t know whether to be amazed or to be angry, because now he had the sudden urge to hold Kuroo in his arms and snuggle into his sleek fur. He huffed, “whatever, I’ve seen the magicians at the castle do better.” In reality he had never seen magic this well executed, not even with the king’s top mage. He wasn’t going to tell him that though, now was he?
Shit. “Whatever- why’d you turn yourself into a cat anyway?”
“So I can join you.”
Yaku almost choked on his saliva. “No! No way!”
“Oh-hoho, I think you mean a yes.” It was only slightly unsettling how Kuroo rose to stand on his hind legs and begin to make his way over to the bathroom.
“When I say no, I mean no, you stupid cat!”
“You’re going to let me take a shower with you.” There was something different in Kuroo’s voice, something that clashed with his carefree way of talking from before… it was almost menacing.
Yaku choked on the ball of saliva the wedged itself in his throat. Something in the back of his mind was compelling him to listen, telling- ordering- him to do what the demon told him to. And by sheer will did he struggle against that urge.
He felt like he was back at the bar with how Kuroo was staring him down. Even as a cat he was intimidating. “Yakkun. Am I going to have to repeat myself?”
His teeth gritted so hard that they started to ache. The damn bastard was enjoying this. It was like he was getting a kick out of watching Yaku struggle.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He could feel a piercing headache come on. God, he felt like he was going to vomit. Just let him take a shower with you, Yaku. It’s not worth it to be stubborn now. He bit down the swell of pride that threatened to bubble up and he glared down at Kuroo. He looked like the cat that caught to canary. “ Fine. You can come.”
“Awe, see? Was it that bad, Yakkun?”
“Oh, you’re so funny.”
Yaku sighed as they walked into the small bathroom.
“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad.”
Yaku continued to ignore Kuroo and funnily enough he found himself rather disheartened at the little assassin not talking to him. Or walking next to him for that matter.
Ok, so maybe it was a pretty dick move for him to change back into his form in the middle of the shower and grabbing Yaku like they knew each other for more than a week and two days. But, in his defence, he wanted to feel what the guy was packing- you know, since he’s his bodyguard and all now (even though he didn’t really need to; he got a good feel of his arm strength and how much solid muscle covered those thighs). So, he did the only logical thing he could think of: feel the guy up.
He was happy to discover that the Yaku was basically all lithe muscle, it was amazing. Until Hazelnut attacked him. The little betrayer.
That guy would never cross water for him! And he was the one who created the little shit! But when he hears the kid screaming he comes barreling through a stream of water with a yowling battle cry as he makes contact with Kuroo’s face with readied claws.
His hand unconsciously comes to feel the thin scratch the spans from his eyebrow to his cheek. Kenma was definitely not going to let him live this down. Or, hopefully, they would heal before they hit the castle. That would be…
His eyes suddenly narrowed and he jerked his hand back, Yaku following the pull of it. “Hey! What the hell is your issue?” He yelled, about to turn to him, when a tall outline caught his attention.
“Yaku!” The silver haired boy yelled, excitement permeating every inch of his body. Kuroo wrinkled his nose. “Yaku, where are you going?”
“Hey, Lev,” Yaku nodded, a frown on his face. “And nowhere in particular.” He threw a glare at Kuroo.
“Is it another job? Can I come?” He leaned down his green eyes sparkling as he grabbed hold of Yaku’s hands.
Kuroo interrupted Yaku as he pushed himself in between them, flashing a toothy grin at Lev. “Nah, this is a job only my guard can do, kid.”
Kuroo almost snickered at how the kid was staring him down. All with a smile on his face, he’d make a good demon actually--
“No one you need to associate yourself with, Lev,” Yaku offered a gentle smile to the boy and Kuroo huffed. “It's just a job, nothing more. I’ll take you out on the next one.”
“That’s what you said last time!”
“Hey! Don’t get whiney with me, brat, circumstances change.”
Lev pouted, slouching. Now, Kuroo actually did snigger, earning him a heated glare from Yaku. “You promise, right?” Lev mumbled.
“Of course. Swear on my life.” Yaku offered his pinky and Lev wrapped his around it, a bright smile breaking onto his face.
With that he ran off, waving and yelling goodbyes to Yaku, never once sparing another glance at Kuroo.
“You’ve really got that cub trained, huh?”
Yaku ignored him and began to walk again.
“Hey!” Kuroo sputtered chasing after him. “Yaku, don’t ignore me!”
Chapter 4: The Trauma of Love
Breaking News: Oikawa wants to yeet Ushijima into the sun (are any of us really surprised?)
So. This was supposed to... not be so angsty but, here we are. Sorry, it's so short, I'll shoot for the next chapter to be much longer, I promise!
“You know, I’m kinda happy for him.” Oikawa sighed, batting his eyelashes at Iwaizumi who stood beside his throne: back straight and eyes narrowed into a glare. “You know, despite him trying to overthrow me and all.” He waved his hand and the image of Kuroo pestering Yaku dissipated as if he just swiped clouds apart. “What do you think, Iwa-chan? Remind you of us.”
“There is no ‘us’, your majesty.”
Ouch. Oikawa’s pupils narrowed into slits and he stared hard at the back of the ravenette’s head. He knew he still wasn’t over him . Even after all this time that had passed, his heart still yearned and ached for him all at the same time. Even though he had left him alone, naked on that bed of white silk and broken-hearted, and had ran off before his very eyes with that monster called Tendou. He still loved him.
“Well, there would be an ‘us’ if you would just get over him.” He watched as Iwa stiffened and he felt the backs of his eyes sting. He moved off of his throne, smooth and gentle, he slid his slender hands over the grooves of Iwa’s armored shoulders, feeling the bumps and grooves that scared the metal, before wrapping his arms around his neck. He had to lean down, but that was alright. It was Iwa after all. “You know he didn’t deserve you, right?”
Iwaizumi’s glare focused on the black marbled floor. He hated how smooth the floor was. He could see the way his eyes were beginning to grow glossy. He gritted his teeth curling his fist. Just hit him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He didn’t know Ushijima like I did. He felt the shift of soft hair against his cheek, tensing again when he caught a sad chocolate eye staring back into his.
All at once the tension in his fist disappeared and his cheeks were wet.
Oikawa took all of his weight as Iwa slouched against him, his head resting against his shoulder. Oikawa could feel wetness against his ear and his hold on him tightened. “Your right. He didn’t deserve me.” There was a hope that bloomed in his chest. Maybe, just maybe this was it. Maybe Iwa was finally healing. But, just as quickly as it came it was snuffed out. “I didn’t deserve him.”
The silence was heavy with dread. No, no. That wasn’t what he was- God, did he-? No, no. For a moment, Oikawa had no idea how to respond. Iwa had gone completely limp in his arms, soft sobs and sniffles escaping his throat. How was he supposed to convince him? How? He had been trying for so long, but that damn Ushijima. He probably didn’t even know how much he had hurt him. How broken he had left him. Fuck, I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.
Iwa took in a gulping breath, he armor suddenly feeling so much colder. “Oikawa,” he whispered. “Oikawa, you’re freezing everything.”
“I’ll kill him for you, Iwa.”
“Ushijima!” He suddenly jumped up, spinning Iwa around to hold him by his forearms. “I’ll kill him if it’ll make you feel better! I’ll kill him and that damn monster he took for his partner!”
“Oikawa, you don’t…”
“No, I’ll do it. I’ll fucking do it. Just for you.” A flash of a young Iwa smiling, missing teeth and dirt smeared cheeks. “Anything to see you smile again.”